Make me a Sandwich?
by leidiavolo
Summary: Remy is Rogue's slave for two months. But Rogue's not exactly into the things Remy's into. So what's Remy gonna to do to occupy himself? Don't ask me. I'm just the author. A lot of fluff. Looking to avoid too much angst. Under Revision only chapter two to
1. The Situation

1**Make Me A Sandwich**

Sekiyou

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution.**

"Dialogue"

_Emphasis or Lyrics_

Rogue squirmed under Remy's gaze, "Err..." She turned her head to focus elsewhere. Her hands settled into her lap and she began to twiddle her thumbs.

"Come on chere," he said, "y' got t' have something better den dat."

The girl sharply turned her head to gaze at the male in front of her. Her eyes thinned into a glare, "Ah said to make meh a sandwich, so make me a damn sandwich, _Gambit_." She scowled.

"Are y' sure?" an eyebrow rose on the cajun's face, "Not'ing else?"

Rogue rolled her eyes, "Nothin' else, ya cajun pervert."

Remy lifted his arms in defeat, "Fine _chere_, y' got one strange-workin' mind." He shook his head and walked toward the chrome refrigerator. Opening the door, he took out a bag of multi-grain bread and set it on the counter behind him. Remy turned back to retrieve white cheese, honey ham, and mayo. He took out a plate and a knife and began making the requested sandwich.

Rogue reclined in her seat, propping her feet onto the table and crossed her arms. She mentally scoffed at the the Cajun making her the ham and cheese sandwich. She didn't like the predicament they had come across, but atleast she was on top. She knew Remy wished it was the other way around, no doubt. Who knows what that hormone-contolled brain of his was dreaming up. Remy Lebeau was know for thinking with his second head.

Dammit. She knew she shouldn't have agreed to play truth or dare with the rest of the girls. Group activities always sucked. Especially when you get blackmailed. Her eye twitched at the memory. Remy was dared to be her slave for two months. He didn't seem to have any problems. He almost looked _satisfied_. But Rogue wasn't so happy. In fact she started to shout and sputter curses at the smug cajun. She didn't have to agree after all. She wasn't the one who was dared. She did _not_ want to be stuck with the flirty swamp rat for two months, constantly barraged by wolf whistles and endless innuendos.

She refused adamantly until Kitty came up to her and whispered in her ear. She had a piece of blackmail and threatened to tell _Gambit_ if Rogue didn't agree. There was no way Remty Lebeau was gonna know about her midnight skinny dipping escapade. She'd never live it down. So reluctantly she surrendered. And she was know. Ordering Remy to make her a sandwich.

She propped her head on the table with her hand and watched Remy put together the sandwich. He was wear the damn trench coat again. How long had he kept that trench coat? He wore it day and night, even over his X-Men uniform. She deadpanned. What did he think his trench coat was? A cape. Rogue rolled her eyes. One day that thing was going to be the end of him. Underneath his trench coat he was wearing a pair of denim jeans and an Invader Zim T-shirt -- atleast he knew his cartoons. Strangely enough he also had his gloves on. He'd have to ask him why the thumb, the index finger and the pinky were cut off of his gloves.

Remy "Gambit" Lebeau spread mayo onto the ham. The dare was a complete waste of time, he thought. Rogue didn't want he to do anything to her, and she didn't want to do anything to him. Atleast anything other then mundane tasks. Nothing a regular girl would want from him. The southern gal didn't even want homework help. He glanced at Rogue. He was sure Rogue was... fully developed. And had experienced puberty. His eyes raked over her figure. But she didn't seem to have the hormone-driven mind teens their age was reknown for.

"Done." Remy waved the sandwich in the air in front of Rogue.

Rogue turned her head, snapping out of her thoughts. "Right, thanks sugah."

Remy's eyebrow arched up. Sugar huh? Rogue recently picked up the name and began to use it frequently. Not that she stopped calling him swamp rat of bayou boy. "Y' welcome _chere_."

Rogue hastily snatched the sandwich from his hands. She sunk her teeth into the ham and cheese and got up. She made her way towards the staircase. Remy close behind. At the bottom fo the stairs Rogue paused and spun around. She scowled again, "What the hell are yah doin'? You bettah not be followin' me."

"Didn' y' her y' ami, Kitty? Remy be y' slave fo' two months," a wicked grin settled onto Remy's face.

Rogue sent her patented Death Glare at the smug male, "That don't mean we're siamese twins, swamp rat. Y' only have ta listen ta what Ah say. And Ah'm tellin' ya to get."

"Tha's fine wit Remy, petit'. " He smiled and sauntered up the stairs behind here.

"Fahne! Ah could care less. Jus' leave meh alone!" Rogue stalked to her room.

Remy chuckled, "Remy'll jus' be goin' to his room den." He didn't know what made Rogue so addictive. She just was. He couldn't get enough of her. Not that he minded, an addiction to her wasn't so bad.

He leaned against the banister, tipping his head to the side and watched Rogue's hips swing side to side. Mmmm. Delicious.

AN: Hee. I'm in the process of reviving this fic. Which includes revising. But I don't think I'm up for updating any other fic, so this'll have to do. xD But have fun. And review please! Maybe I won't abandon my fics as quickly as I usually do.


	2. Hard to Get

1**Make Me A Sandwich**

sekiyou

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution.**

"Dialogue"

_Emphasis or Lyrics_

"Agh," Rogue sighed. She propped her head up onto her hands and stared at her World Studies homework at her desk in front of her. She proceeded to glare at it, hoping a hole would just suddenly pop out of no where. Rogue had no doubt that the high school curriculum spawned from hell, from Satan himself.

"This sucks," Rogue dropped her head onto the table. "Like Ah care about whatever a munchkin french shortie who wears freaky blue hats does. And what kind o' name is Napoleon?" she cried out in exasperation. Rogue began to bang her head repeatedly against the table. But was cut short by chuckling.

Rogue turned her head to the other side and came face to face with one helluva cocky grin. "What're ya lookin' at, bayou boy?" green eyes narrowing at the sight of Remy Lebeau.

"M' lookin' at not'ing, _chere_. Remy be laughing at y', not lookin' at y'," another chuckle escaped from his lips, a cigarette clutched at the corner of his lips. He paused and took a long drag.

"Git that damned thing away from meh! Now!" Rogue smacked the closest part of Remy to her.

"Ow, _petite_!" he whined, "No need t' be violent." Remy continued to nurse his knee, "Unless o' course y' like it that way, ne?" He winked.

Rogue hissed at him, "Put out the damn cigarette, _Gambit_. Or ya gonna lose something mo' precious than feeling in ya knee." The damn freak was gonna give her second hand smoke. She was _not_ going to be stuck with a smoking bastard for two months, "Ah command ya, _slave._"

"Eh?" Remy put out the cigarette and looked back at Rogue. A wicked grin appearing, "Mmm. Bossy, bossy, but 'm liking it – a lot."

"Lahke that makes meh feel any better," Rogue scowled at the Cajun. The damn man was cocky as hell. And he was charming to the core. She mentally rolled her eyes, Cajuns.

"Aw, poor _chere_. Want 'm to kiss it an' make it feel better?"

She stood up, her fists placed onto her hips, "How 'bout no. Leave mah room, and go flirt with some other skirt." She walked to the door and violently opened it. "Now move ya swamp rat ass outta here." She stalked back to her seat, tapping her pencil impatiently.

"But _chere_, Remy like dis skirt de best," he fingered the black leather skirt she was wearing. He took a deep breath, "Indeed."

Rogue stiffened in her seat. She could feel the his warm mouth near the back of her neck. His breath brushed the exposed skin. She almost shivered. She could feel the heat rising to her face under the pale foundation. Too close. This cajun was too close. His essence wrapped itself around her. She could smell the Bourbon he loved to drink, and the smell leftover from the cigarette he was smoking. Did he know he smelt like Jambalaya? Jesus, the man smelled delicious. She groaned.

Remy chuckled slowly, "Jambalaya, huh _chere_?" Rogue closed her eyes in despair, had she said that out loud? "Y' don't smell half bad y'self _chere_." He whispered in her ear, his voice low and deep, "Like fresh apples offa the Mississippi." Remy wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Rogue tipped her head, exposing more of her bare neck. Her body relaxing into his embrace. Even with the chair in between. A small moan escaped her mouth, leaving Remy startled. His eyes widened and a piece of his hair shifted to lay in between his eyes. He moved to place away from his face when Rogue stiffened again in his arms. Dangit, almost had her.

She violently pushed away his arms, "You betta never try that again, Remy Lebeau. Or Ah'll drain ya dry till y' have to sleep fo' a month." She stood up, knocking her chair over.

"Ah ain't a trophy, and y' can't win me over. Ya can't display me like a medal, Ah ain't that kind of girl," she pushed Remy towards the door, "And Ah refuse t' be seen as a challenge." Rogue pushed him until his was out of her room and in the hallway.

"Get meh?" she slammed the door on his face.

Remy stood still, stunned and a bit confused at what had just taken place. Never had a woman react that way in his life. Still her. He had to grin. No wonder he's been on the same girl for three weeks now. Damn _fille_ was really somethin'.

"Playin' hard t' get, ne _chere_?"

AN: Yay! Chapter two has been revised. Much better than before, I like to think. And thanks for the reviews. The new Chapter three will be up soon, I hope. Have fun till then. XD


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